Poor little ducky
by JackGywer
Summary: My contribution to the tumblr Sam & Jack MOS-Challenge, February 2018 "Unexpected Family Visit"


"Poor little ducky" Sam & Jack MOS-Challenge, February 2018 "Unexpected Family Visit"

* * *

Samantha Carter and Jack O'Neill lay close together on the fluffy bearskin in front of the crackling log fire in his house, enjoying the unfortunately much too rare, undisturbed togetherness with a glass of red wine. As Jack grabbed a small, sweet treat from the plate next to him, and holding it between his thumb and index finger, he fed Sam the strawberry dipped in cream. Jack smiles suddenly mischievously, and could not resist a small giggle.  
"What?" Sam asked, confused.  
He tenderly stroked her upper lip with his thumb, removing the rest of cream that lay above her upper lip, before kissing her deeply, caressing her lip with his tongue over and over again, and gently playing with her delicate skin, leaving the young woman barley time to breathe.  
Trembling, she groaned.  
Grinning, he let her out of his claws for a moment, then immediately nibbled her sensual lips again, still tasting the sweetness of the cream. Sam loved it, his games, and his occasional folly, everything about him. There were no other men before him that could make her this happy, nor this much in love. The two officers knew they were eating forbidden fruit, aware of the risks and consequences, but that made them even more attractive, and neither of them regretted their decision for a second.  
He only touched her lips, and yet for Sam it was as if she could feel his big, rough hands on her whole body. The light showers of pleasure that flowed through her became more and more intense until she could barely stand it. She groaned lustily when he finally began to slowly open, with his long fingers, the small buttons on her blouse, one at a time. She shivered as his left hand repeatedly slipped through the already open areas in between unbuttoning the next, his rough palms stroking her flat, velvety belly gently.  
Sam moaned noticeably under his touch, his tender kisses becoming more and more intense, and her groans more and more. Jack's hands seemed to be touching everywhere now, the warmth of his touch feeling as if it almost burned her soul. Her mind was completely gone as impatiently she whines for more, until he finally takes pity and finally frees her from the disturbing garment. In a high arc the blouse flew carelessly aside and landed directly in front of the fireplace. Suddenly he was over her and kissed her hard. His wet, hot lips slowly slid down her neck until he finally reached her stomach. With both hands, he stroked her tight breasts incessantly and finally loosened her bra.  
Sam could barely control herself, now she was aware of his tight erection through the light fabric of his sports pants. Slowly, she lifted his T-shirt, pushing her tender hands underneath, and stroked provocatively over the well-known, sensitive areas of his upper body. She slowly slid down her hands, landing on his waistband, and looking lustfully into his dark eyes, she attempted to untie the drawstring that held his pants in place.  
Breathing rapidly, he pulled the shirt over his head. His slightly longer, gray-mottled hair got a bit messy, which only made Sam even more excited. Immediately he kissed her again, while Sam's right hand disappeared a little deeper in his waistband, bringing the man completely out of his concept. Overwhelmed by the stimulating feeling, he closed his eyes, unable to hold back a deep moan. The world around them seemed to stand completely still until they were rudely thrown back to reality when suddenly someone stood in front of them, looking down at them with wide eyes. Sam cried out in alarm and tried to hide in panic - in vain.

"Jonathan Jethro O'Neill!"

The stern voice echoing from the small woman on the other side of the room.

"God, do you want to kill me? If so, then you've almost made it."

"Mummy?" Jack gasped in surprise

He tried pressing closer to his beloved to hide the clear bulge in his pants.

"I'm the one who almost had a heart attack," he whined, trying to control his racing pulse.

"Well, don't you want to introduce me to your little girlfriend?" She demanded.

"Mom, what the hell are you doing here?" He stuttered, blushing, slowly becoming aware of the situation.

He peered apologetically at Sam.

"Mom?" Sam whispered, more to herself.

She had no idea that Jack's mother was still alive, he had never mentioned her. God, how embarrassing, Sam thought, thinking how she would love to sink into the ground. She buried her face in his chest, trying to hide her rising blush from the woman, his mother.

"Mom, would you ...?" He growled, pointing angrily toward the kitchen as he rose slowly.

"Good, then I'll make a cup of coffee. Do not forget to wash your hands. I saw exactly where your fingers were, young lady! "She said, on her way to the kitchen, without turning around again.

"Mom!" Jack yelled after her as he pulled on his black T-shirt. "Note to myself- I should really get into the habit of locking that damn door!" He grumbled.

Only when they both heard his mother handling the coffee maker in the kitchen did Samantha slowly get up, wrapping the blanket around her half naked body, which Jack had quickly thrown over her. Then grabbing her clothes, Sam headed to the bathroom, her face turning red. Jack followed her, wanting to calm her.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I do not even know what she's doing here! She never comes here unannounced."

Sam did not say anything as she disappeared into the bathroom, the shock was still deep in her limbs. She needed a moment for herself. "Jonathan." That peculiar voice of the small woman fluted out of the kitchen. Sam could hear Jack moaning outside the door before his footsteps suggested he was following his mother's call.

* * *

"Mom, what are you doing here?" He croaked. "Where is Dad?"

"To hell with your dad!" She thundered, gently stroking her eldest son's hair. "Your hair is way too long! Are you trying to be a hippie?"

She tried distracting Jack from the actual topic, stroking an unruly strand from his forehead.

"Mom!" He mumbled. "Where's Dad? You two never travel alone. What happened? "He asked worriedly now.

"Your father is an ass!" She railed. Jack raised an eyebrow. "Do not worry, ducky!" She soothed her son. "He will come to his senses again."

* * *

Ten minutes later, when Sam felt ready to face the woman again, she found them both in the living room, sitting on the couch. Three cups of steaming coffee were on the table. Jack's mother was sitting close to her son, one hand on his knee as she spoke to him. Jack looked like a little boy in her presence. Sam found the whole scene more than strange. Hesitantly, she stood in the door until Jack jumped up and pulled her towards him.

"Mom, this is Sam," Jack said beaming as they stood in front of her.

The older women, looked her up and down.

"Nice to see your face right," she said dryly, tapping her hand on the seat next to her, ordering Sam to sit down.

"Mom," Jack protested.

There Sam sat, between Jack and Mrs. O'Neill, his mother. Sam would like to sink into the ground unnoticed. Jack held her hand and squeezed her affectionately as she reached for her coffee with the other hand, carefully sipping it.

"Jonathan just told me a little bit about you, kid. So you are also in the Air Force? Have you ever thought about starting a family? You are not so young any more. Or are you more into career? "

"Mom!" Jack warned, raising a hand. "That really is not up for debate."

"I just mean, men can still father children in old age, but ..."

Jack gave her a not very respectful look, his eyes narrowed to slits, but he said nothing.

"And you have my son firmly under control, as I could see," she remarked.

Sam almost choked on her drink, knowing exactly what she was hinting at. Jack was about to say something when his mother lifted a soothing hand and strangled him.

"How is Sara doing?" She changed the subject.

"We are divorced! She has her own life! "He murmured slightly annoyed.

Her behavior caused him a headache. It was as if he did not know his mum at all. Another half hour of her "interrogation" Samantha went through, before she finally said goodbye with an excuse. The young woman simply could not shake off the uncomfortable feeling in the presence of this woman and was glad that she was finally able to leave.

* * *

Jack walked with his beloved outside, leaning against the door slightly as he pulled her tightly into his strong arms, kissing hot and heartfelt.

"At the next opportunity, we'll continue exactly where we left off," he winked, smiling sheepishly.

"Your mother hates me!"

"Are you kidding? She loves you! Believe me! She's just ... Upset. She and Dad had a fight."

"I had my hand in your pants. That has certainly left a good first impression ... It could hardly be even more embarrassing!" She whimpered. Blushing again, as she thought back on the situation.

"After all, it did leave a lasting impression. Is it not?" he joked, his dark eyes sparkling.

Sam could not really laugh about it, and looked sadly down at the floor. Jack took her chin in his hand, lifting her face, he looked deep into her blue eyes.

Whispered, "It could have been worse."

"You think?" She groaned.

"Yeah, it could have been my dad, or worse, yours!" He joked.  
A cold shower of fear suddenly ran down his spine as he thought more about it. If Jacob had caught him with his daughter in that position…Her eyes widened as she thought about it, too.

"Right!" She grinned and returned his kiss.

"Your mother is a ... charming person," Sam mumbled.

"Yes, lovely," Jack groaned. "Usually she is not that direct!"

Sam kissed him again and whispered,  
"Jethro? Really?"

"If you betray that, I'll have to kill you!" He mumbled half lost in another kiss.

At that very moment, the voice of the feisty little lady sounded again:  
"Ducky?"

Sam chuckled: "Ducky?"

"Oh for crying out loud!" He murmured, sighing softly, "I need to talk to Dad urgently."

Sam slowly pulled away from his arms, strolling to her car when she heard his mother call again, "Ducky?"

"Mom, you should not call me that! I'm almost fifty years old! "He complained, stamping his feet firmly, almost like a little boy who did not get his way. Sam turned around, smirking at Jack's reaction as he disappeared into the house.

"Poor little Ducky," she giggled, got into her car and drove away


End file.
